


Fashion of His Love

by Lesbianna



Series: Kurtbastian First Kisses [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: (The friends with benefits aren't Kurt/Sebastian), Dalton Academy as a boarding school, Friends With Benefits, Glitter, Jeff has a lot of glitter, Kurt and Jeff are BFFs, Kurt has guy friends, Kurt is sexy!, Lady Gaga Mashups, Lady Gaga songs, M/M, Not Blaine Friendly, Not Blaine or Klaine Friendly, References to Santana loving Brittany, Sebastian and Kurt has insult wars!, Snark, Snarky french insults, mention of Kurt's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesbianna/pseuds/Lesbianna
Summary: Kurt Hummel doesn't leave Dalton when Santana discovers David's homosexuality because while Dalton is far from perfect, it is on many counts better than the cesspool of homophobia that is McKinley. He has friends; glittery Jeff with the huge crush on Nick Duval, Flint with his skulls and gentle soul, he even has his friend Matthew who he likes kissing. Even if he has to deal with his ex-boyfriend who broke up with him for being too out there.He puts on Lady Gaga soundtracks in his room and lets himself dance. He shrugs out of constricting uniforms and dresses in clothes with their own language as often as possible.Then Sebastian Smythe transfers from Paris.





	Fashion of His Love

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a oneshot from the Kurtbastian First Kisses.  
> I personally know how annoying it can be to be searching for a specific story, only to discover it's somewhere within a prompt oneshot fic, and then having to look through the entire fic. This series is simply all of the longer oneshots for the fic, spaced into separate works, so you don't have to do that. It also makes tagging easier, so you don't get turned off from the fic collection itself by 'bad' tags, and easily can find the specific story.  
> The fics in this series are the same as the ones from KFK.
> 
> This oneshot is written by both me and KurtbastianIsForever. I was the main writer.

 

 

> _"Baby loves to dance in the dark_  
>  _'Cause when he’s looking, she falls apart"- Dance In The Dark_

* * *

 

Kurt mechanically raised his coffee cup to his lips. After a light sip he winced in distaste. Medium drip? What had he been thinking, changing his coffee order to fit that of Blaine’s? He longingly thought of his old non-fat mocha, hating the fact that he hadn’t brought enough money to buy another cup.

The loud  _tap-tap-tap_  of Santana’s blood red nails roused him from his bitterness. It seemed she wasn’t satisfied with his silence.

This morning, Santana Lopez had called Kurt Hummel on the phone, and told him to meet him at the Lima Bean, pronto. You didn’t tell Santana no. Especially not when she hung up on you. Kind of made it impossible. And Kurt was curious, to be honest.

“Okay, quit the crap Lady Hummel, tell me what went down between you and Hairy Kabumsky, so I can fix it, dammit!” Santana was staring coldly at him. A slight flinch went through him, but he suppressed it, contained it to a spasm of his leg and a tightening of his features. So  _that_  was what this was about. Of course.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kurt said, lips pressed tightly together. No outing, no fucking outing David Karofsky.

“Look, I found something out the other day, and- look, the Hairy Asshole is  _gay_ , and if you tell me what you did to piss him off, I can fix it, so you can  _come back_!”

Of course Santana found out about Karofsky’s secret. He could only assume she hadn’t told anyone else, since no one had blown up his phone yet.

“Santana, I can’t come back! The educational system at Dalton is- it’s amazing! The classes are far more challenging, it’ll look good on my college applications because my scores will be that much more impressive, considering what kind of school this is!”

“Yeah, and you can have a lot of fun with all the gay-ass boytoys here, right? Having lots of gay-ass fucking fun, and completely abandoning your  _friends_.”

“I have friends here too. Jeff and Flint especially. I’m removing myself from toxicity, that doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you!”

It still felt strange to not mention Blaine as a best friend. But the thought of Jeff and Flint was warming in itself.

“You can dress it up as whatever you like, but you’re  _abandoning us!_ ”

Kurt bowed his head, closed his eyes, and whispered, “Santana, you can pretend all you want that you and Britt aren’t something. That  _you_ aren’t something. But don’t hate me because I’m not at McKinley.” He was chancing it on mentioning Brittany. But Santana was guilting him, and he would not take that lying down.

Santana was quiet. He didn’t open his eyes, but put his hand on the table, palm up. The Latina didn’t take hold of it. He heard the loud rapping of those nails of hers on the table while she was searching for another angle.

“What about the money? You can’t expect your daddy to keep paying for that fancy-ass school!”

That hurt. That really hurt. His dad had cancelled his honeymoon for Kurt to transfer to Dalton. Santana knew that. She knew he’d do anything for his dad. But she was going straight for the jugular, instead of talking about Nationals or something. He didn’t  _care_  about Nationals now.

It was clear that she didn’t want to waste time.  
Good. Neither did he.

“Santana, you have to stop. Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve asked my dad if he could send me to another school, a public school. But he won’t let me do that, let alone send me back to McKinley. He wants me to be safe, and he wants me to have good options for colleges, and I can get that here, because my grades will be amazing if I keep up with the studying. He pays less for me to go at Dalton than most of the students, anyway, because I’m one of the students that came here for the zero-bullying-tolerance-policy.

“I love you guys Santana,  _I do._  But I can’t go back to McKinley. I don’t want to get hypothermia again because the jocks pours water over me during the dumpster toss and closes the lid on me. I don’t want go back to having Mr. Peters loudly proclaiming that homosexuals are filth,  _in calculus class._  I can’t fucking go back to a closeted jock who thinks that he’s gay because I exist, because I ‘converted him’. I can’t go back, because it would kill my dad even more than this is already doing. I forced dad to sell my Nav, and we’re fixing up a really old car at the garage that I can get. The Nav money will cover most eventual hospital bills, if that is necessary. I’ve tried, Santana, but my dad found out how scared shitless I am, and he won’t let me back. ”

Santana grunted unhappily.

“Hear you dumped the gel helmet. Sylvester is happy.” She said, changing the topic, her eyes steely. He nodded absently, and got up, leaving the café. “Don’t need her to appear out of the blue because you said her name,” he said and winked at the girl.

It wasn’t exactly accurate what she’d said right then, but what did it matter? His first boyfriend had dumped him, and he was essentially a failure. Santana knew that. Hell, everyone in ND knew his boyfriend had dumped him and Kurt wasn’t doing anything to win him back.

* * *

KurtandBlaine had crashed and burned after Kurt and Jeff became friends. They weren’t even the homoerotic kind of friends, there were no cuddles or touchiness between them beyond the happy hugs Jeff would give every one of his friends when he saw them. There was no way Blaine was jealous about the time the two spent together, especially since a lot of it also was spent with Jeff’s roommate, and Jeff also had other friends he spent time with.

It was the first time Kurt had made friends at Dalton besides Blaine, (which was somewhat weird in itself, now that he thought about it - he’d been there for months, and he only got friends after he had gotten together with Blaine) - and he had been ecstatic, spending a lot of time with Jeff and Flint. Male friends! Finally! It had been sparkly and fun - literally. It turned out, Jeff, who had the whitest hair Kurt had ever seen on anyone who actually was a natural brunette, was quite fond of glitter. His room at Dalton had been covered with posters of musicians and fairylights in different colors. The mirror frame was covered in small fake jewels and lots of glitter. His glittery decoration was being contrasted heavily by Flint, his roommate, who was darker in his stylistic choices. He preferred black bed linens and had skulls around on shelves and a glow-in-the-dark poster of a monster over his bed.

The day it had ended with Blaine, he had been in Jeff’s room. Flint was out with friends, and they were having fun.

They had been singing along to Lady Gaga - Kurt showing Jeff how to walk in ten inch heels, brandishing hairbrushes like microphones, Jeff pulling out a bottle of glittery hairspray that made Kurt feel every bit the “little monster” that he was - when the door swung open.

And there Blaine Anderson had been in the doorway. The moment eerily reminded Kurt of Burt Hummel walking in on Kurt dancing to Single Ladies. The look of, “You’re not what I expected” scorching him to the core, leaving him feeling like he was dirty and worthless and not enough for someone like Blaine.

And thus it had commenced. Blaine had pulled him out to _talk_  and told him that he’d been on his way to invite Kurt out to the movies and a dinner but since Kurt clearly had no regard for the rules at Dalton-

Kurt was “too loud” he explained. Not in the sense of volume - it was a weekend at Dalton, and no one else had complained about any loud noise at all; actually the next door neighbor had told them both that he could barely hear the music at all on multiple occasions. The polished oak doors made sure no sound was even heard from the halls when they were closed - so no, it wasn’t that Kurt was disturbing other students. But still, he was too loud, in Blaine's world.

Kurt knew he was supposed to be apologizing and fighting for Blaine in that moment, but for some reason the lyrics “ _she looks good but her boyfriend says she’s a mess_ ” was ringing in his head. He’d just stared at Blaine.

Then, there had been lots of pretty words of wanting to be best friends again,  _just like they had been before,_ and of how  _it’s not you, it’s me_.

The essence of it was clear though; Kurt wasn’t enough of a perfect Dalton boy to make Blaine happy. Kurt had cried for hours into Jeff’s favorite shirt, soaking it in tears and snot.

And so KurtandBlaine had gone their separate ways, and were no longer an entity. It had only lasted a little over a month, the thing they had - Kurt couldn’t call it boyfriends, he just  _couldn’t_ , boyfriends had to mean more than a little making out - and then Blaine was done with him.

* * *

A couple weeks passed after that coffee meeting with the closeted Latina, before Kurt got a text message from Santana who grudgingly admitted that he was right. She’d been attempting to get Burt Hummel to agree to sending Kurt back to McKinley, but with Kurt having admitted to a lot of the things that went on in that particular cesspool of homophobia, Burt was refusing to send Kurt back, and Kurt wasn’t exactly complaining. He  _did_  miss his friends from the McKinley Glee club, and the Warblers  _were_  horribly uptight, but the curriculum was every academic’s wet dream, and hanging out with Jeff or Flint was so much fun. There was the added fun of that cute blond boy in his math class, Matthew, who, in contrast to heterosexual Finn Hudson, or, even, the out-and-proud Blaine Anderson, didn’t seem to mind his flirtations in the slightest.

Kurt wasn’t interested in a boyfriend, not right now, but Matthew was delectable with his trained body and jock persona, and he was  _undeniably_  interested in boys. Why  _shouldn’t_ Kurt have fun?

And it was quite a lot of fun, not to mention a huge confidence boost, to see the boy glance towards him when he traced his throat with his pen, or when Matthew licked his lips provocatively upon catching Kurt’s eyes.

When their math teacher let them work in pairs the two gravitated towards each other, and had decided to meet up after class ended to look through the problems in the text book, as Kurt honestly wasn’t very good in this class (Mr. Peters had never allowed him to become good, always leaving him to fend for himself desperately) - but Kurt didn’t expect a lot of studying to go down.

And he had, of course, been right. They’d gone to Matthew’s room, and after only a few minutes of work, had abandoned the studying to talk. He found out that Matthew had broken up with an ex-girlfriend only a month or so ago, when she’d found out he was bisexual. “I don’t really see what her problem was. I was commited to her, so in love, but I’ve also liked boys in the past, and I’ll always like boys, just like I’ll always like girls too.”

Kurt had to admit to Matthew he didn’t really understand bisexuality, but, on the other hand, he didn’t really understand heterosexuality either. Breasts were fine, he just wasn’t interested in them. He even admitted to the cruel comment he’d made to Blaine about bisexuality, figuring it was better Matthew knew about it than not.

Somehow they’d landed on the topic of making out. More specifically, making out  _with each other_  (Kurt blushed through that entire conversation) - and both agreed that there would be no commitment; and the air was light and easy between them, though it soon became harder and harder to breathe with hands in hair and under shirts and tongues and lips and  _teeth_.

When he’d left, he expected the feeling of having disappointed his dad to overwhelm him - after all, he was hooking up with a boy without dating him or being in love with him, was doing something that didn’t “matter” in his dad’s eyes, but Kurt couldn’t help but feel that this  _did_ matter. It wasn’t love, but it was fun and it made him feel good, and they had agreed to everything they did. They’d shared something of themselves when they were kissing, yes, but that didn’t mean they’d lost something.

Kurt became friends with Matthew. They kept away from doing anything remotely date-like, and kept everything strictly platonic. They made out occasionally. He liked the easy nature of it, the give and take, and it kept his hormones in check on the days when he felt like jumping someone.

Watching movies with Jeff, Matthew and Flint was a lot of fun. He had even discovered that Flint liked baking (“Don’t tell a soul about this Kurt, it’ll destroy my street cred!” he had hissed when he handed them his fantastic homemade lemon sorbet. “Oh honey,” Jeff said affectionately, “You haven’t got any,” while Matthew was examining the sorbet with the same kind of childish fascination as Finn Hudson would. “So this is ice cream… Without the cream? It’s like, whaddya call it, vegan? If it is, my principles kind of requires me to not eat it. But it also smells amazing, which is annoying, because it’s so good looking. If I don’t tell anyone you like baking you won’t tell anyone I ate vegan ice cream, will you?” Kurt just started humming  _stick to the status quo_  and ate half the tub all by himself).

They all made it through their exams intact, though Kurt felt as though he’d been skinned alive, and he and Flint made cakes and cookies in five different flavors for the last Warblers’ practice of the year - even though it was sort of pointless to even have practiced beyond Regionals, since they didn’t go to Nationals, like his McKinley friends did

And then it was the week before the start of the summer holidays, and Kurt discovered the heart wrenching crush Jeff had on Nick Duval, and perhaps that was the moment that led to him deciding to damn Blaine’s “sexy” lessons to hell.

* * *

Kurt had walked into one of the many study rooms, which were usually very empty. He was on the west side of the building and students tended to use the study rooms on the east side for whatever reason. Maybe because they were closer to the dorms. He could sort of understand why - on the night before his math final, he’d been mumbling algorithms to himself the whole walk back to the dorms, and had nearly fallen asleep before he reached his room. He still preferred this room though, he liked the big windows and the green view, and he preferred to be able to move his body as much as possible, burn off at least  _some_ of the calories in the many sugary treats Flint made.

Upon entering, his attention shifted immediately to a very familiar tuft of white-blond hair. His smiled to himself as he saw Jeff sitting alone in the room, staring out the window, not studying or reading at all. His smile faded when he realized that the look on Jeff’s face had a hint of wistfulness to it. He walked a little closer and looked out the window to see if he could spot whatever Jeff was staring at, only noticing a bunch of other familiar boys walking down the big grassy field.

He started to walk up to Jeff, tapping him on the shoulder when he was close enough to do so. Jeff jumped at the contact and turned his surprised face towards Kurt.

“Oh it’s just you...” Jeff breathed out. Kurt lifted up an eyebrow.

“Just me huh?” Kurt said sarcastically.

Jeff smiled and gestured for Kurt to sit down across from him. Kurt gladly did so and did not hesitate to get straight to the point. “So, mind telling me why you were shooting all sad and longing looks at those boys over there?”

Jeff’s eyes widened and his face became slightly red. He was obviously starting to feel embarrassed at having been caught as he hid his face in his hands. Kurt bit his lip, worried that he had crossed a line. If whatever the reason he was staring at those boys were for was embarrassing, he wanted Jeff to tell him as Kurt saw him as his best friend here. He wanted Jeff to be able to tell him anything, just like Kurt could. He wanted Jeff to know that he wouldn’t laugh at him no matter how embarrassing his confession would be.

Jeff peeked through his fingers at Kurt before he rubbed his hands over his eyes and huffed out a, “Okay I’ll tell you. But you can’t judge me okay?”

Kurt nodded vigorously, propping his chin on his hands, ready to lend a listening ear. This was  _definitely_ a crush on a boy. Exciting!

Jeff glanced around as if he was making sure no one was listening and leaned closer to Kurt’s curious looking face.

“You know who Nick is right?”

Kurt cocked his head but nodded slowly. Nick was one of the Warblers. He was known for always auditioning for solos, and he had a pretty good voice, but other than that he was pretty quiet. He didn’t really blame him though, because no matter how much the poor guy tried, Blaine always ended up with the solo, even though Blaine didn’t even  _audition_. It had gotten to the point that Nick had given up trying out for solos.

Nick was also known for being pretty close friends with Jeff. Kurt had never hung out with Jeff and Nick at the same time, but he caught them talking to each other quite a lot, especially during practice.

“Well, the truth is... I... like him. Way too much.”

It was Kurt’s turn to be surprised. Well, only for a split second. After that split second he realized there was nothing to be surprised about. Now that he thought about it, the revelation that Jeff liked Nick wasn’t really a revelation at all, but moreover just a thing he always knew was there. He’d never thought about it, but it  _was_ quite obvious. He knew what look you gave someone if you really liked them, and Jeff had always looked at Nick that way.. That fond look, the look of “ _please take my hand, and please kiss me and please love me, I’m starving for it, for you.”_  And he was sure that he saw Nick give that look to Jeff in return.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. What I can say though is that it’s pretty obvious you do.”

Jeff’s eyebrows almost shot into his hairline. “It’s obvious!? You don’t think Nick knows right?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head, “And why do you say that as if it would be bad if he did know? I think it’s pretty obvious he likes you too.”

Jeff rolled his eyes back and slumped into his chair. “There’s no way he likes me back Kurt. I’m nothing but a friend to him.”

Kurt smiled softly at his friend, and patted his shoulder. “I’m not sure about that. You’re kind of wonderful Jeff, and if he doesn’t see that, he’s dumb.”

Jeff was quiet. “You can’t know if he’s boyfriend material anyway. What if he doesn’t like Lady Gaga?” Kurt said playfully, and tousled Jeff’s soft locks fondly. Jeff gasped, looking horrified. “That’s not fair! He can’t not like Gaga! I can’t be in love with a boy who doesn’t enjoy  _Lady Gaga_!”

“It should be a rule,” Kurt said thoughtfully. “Anyone who wants to date Kurt Hummel or Jeff Sterling needs to have a healthy appreciation for Lady Gaga.”

Jeff chuckled and then asked, “Is that why you and Matthew aren’t dating?”

Kurt nodded. “I need somebody who will be okay with my theatricality. Who won’t ask me to tone it down or fit in better. Somebody who doesn’t try to change me and tells me that I’m not good enough when I’ve done everything to become that he wants.” The thought of Blaine laughing at Kurt’s ridiculous attempts at being  _sexy_  makes his face heat up and his eyes burn in humiliation. How anyone could expect him to be sexy when he was told not be himself was beyond him.

Jeff watched him with a knowing look on his face, and Kurt knew that Jeff could tell that he was talking about Blaine. “I’m not a back-ground singer. I’m not good at blending in.”

He thought of his girls back in New Directions, and with a smile, he said, “I’m the bright eyeshadow, not the foundation. And you, Jeffrey, are the glitter-bomb someone threw in the spa.”

Jeff agreed with a laugh, but then, with a somber smile and a look toward the window, he said, “I’m going to miss him this summer”

And with that, Kurt hugged him, and told him that he was there to listen, anytime Jeff needed him to.

Had this been New Directions, there would no doubt have been a song and promises of eternal friendship. This was Kurt and Jeff though, and they were good in this moment, that felt like it was sparkling.

“Now,” Jeff said, “Nick has the best legs on the track team. Just. Look at him.” 

* * *

Kurt leaned back against Mercedes’ pillows, one of his stiff shoulders relishing in the feeling of soft and warm fabric.

It was summer, which meant he had the option to visit home. It had been a while since he had a sleepover with any of the girls, but luckily him, Mercedes, Tina, Brittany, Santana, Rachel, and Quinn were all free to do so.

Thankfully none of the girls brought up anything about him and Blaine or him transferring back. He was quite surprised honestly that not even Rachel had brought it up. Either they had all agreed to not talk about it in front of him before he got here or they all just really knew to leave both subjects alone. He appreciated it really. Tonight he just wanted to have fun with his friends and get away from all of his problems.

“So, girls. What’s the latest McKinley gossip?” Kurt pried.

Rachel, who was braiding her own hair, obviously became interested in answering that question as her face lit up. Kurt didn’t bother rolling his eyes like everyone else did. If anyone ever brought up gossip, the two people who were likely to start talking first were Rachel and Santana, maybe Mercedes sometimes. Rachel usually beat the other two to it though.

“Well, I for one think that people are being a little too judgmental on what happened at Nationals. They just don’t understand, along with the judges, that the kiss  _made_ the song.” Rachel quipped while looking especially at Mercedes. Kurt chose then to roll his eyes and smile as Mercedes gave Rachel a nasty look, muttering about how  _if you keep talking I’mma cut you._

He had to say, he even missed hearing Rachel complain.

“Where did you get your eyeshadow, Cedes?” he asked with a grin. Mercedes was hiding her face, looking embarrassed. “Ugh, that store Shane works at.”

“You’re shameless,” he said, shaking his head, but still grinning widely. “The color doesn’t suit you at all."

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” TIna looked confused. “ _Shane._ Jock at McKinley. Super, super hot. He works at the department store and I came in, I buy all the good cheap makeup there, and I just thought he was- well he was damn  _lickable._  So, I think to myself, ‘how do I know he isn’t, ah- lady-fabulous', I think that’s what you and Tina called it Rachel, we all know what happened the last time I seriously liked a guy…”

There was a moment of silence as Kurt heard the distant sound of a rock smashing through his windshield. Mercedes coughed and looked apologetically at him. “So I asked him if he could help me finding a new eyeshadow. I know that’s a stereotype, but like, it was a way to get closer to him, and if he was too good at picking it out, I’d know he probably liked guys. Anyway, so I ask, and he picked  _this atrocious color_ , and he was also checking me out, so I hope he’ll ask me out. He’s not getting a taste of  _this_  chocolate mama before then.”

They all laughed. “Maybe you could combine it with the Dior eyeliner I gave you..” Kurt mumbled, looking through her bag of beauty products. “You have to make your eyes pop, they’re the last thing you really see before kissing someone…” He had dug out an eyeliner and completely missed Rachel’s dumbstruck look. “You’ve been kissing?  _Who_?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Me and a guy from math, Matthew, we struck up a deal to make out when we want to, ages ago.”

“So, you’ve got a boyfriend?” Rachel looked intrigued, and Mercedes looked hurt that he didn’t tell her. Kurt blinked. “God no. We both just like making out, we’re horny teenagers, and we’re friends. I can’t imagine dating him. We’re friends, we sometimes hook up.” He shrugged.

“Huh.”

Mercedes looked surprised. “Sometimes I forget that you’re a  _guy_. Like, I  _know_  you’re a guy, but I never think of you as a guy with  _guy_  hormones, and stuff. You want  _sex_.”

Santana nudged him, and smiled predatorily. "Preach."

Kurt laughed. “As if you don’t!” Mercedes grinned. “You guys… Shane. His fucking arms!”

Rachel butted in with a very sincere and formal “ _I,_  for one, am very sexually attracted to Finn.”

Kurt tugged at her braided hair with a chuckle. “Don’t talk about my brother like that!”

Yeah. He missed his girls.

* * *

“ ** _Shit, want you, in my hand, like we did last week, want to hold it, want you to fuck my hand-“_**

Kurt moaned, fisting himself, rough and fast, very much fucking his own hand, his eyes closed, “ _Yeah want you to do that to me, fuck, want to touch you too, want to hold you so tight, just the way you like it, the little bit of pain, oh shit, yes, want to keep fucking touching you and want you to keep touching me until I come and then I want to use my come as lube on your dick, until you come, oh fuck,”_

“ ** _Shit, don’t stop talking, I want to twist my hand under your head, do that for me now, please, pretend I’m there and you’re fucking my hand, fuck, want to come, fucking make me come,”_**  the words crackled through the phone, and Kurt groaned at the thought. He wanted, needed to come, right now. “ _Please,” “ **Please”**_  they said collectively, and Kurt  _came_ , finally. Matthew’s moan on his end was a clear indicator that he had too. “ _Thanks Matthew,”_  he said breathlessly, letting his head fall back into the pillows of his bed. “ ** _Haha, it’s my pleasure. Texas is way boring without any cute gay boys, and the girls just never really get me up here. No one to mess around with_**.” he could hear the playful pout in Matthew’s voice. “ ** _Heard a couple guys are transferring to Dalton though, in our year I mean. One from France, one from California-“_**

Kurt grabbed his most towlettes from beside his pillow, where he had put them before starting, and starting cleaning himself off, still breathless, and with a laugh agreed that yes, the French boys were just genetically hotter. He really needed to be clean before anyone came down to get him for dinner-

But it was too fucking late for that, apparently, since the door now opened with a  _bang_ , and-

“Shit! Were you  _jerking off_?” It was Puck. Of course it was. Because the person he needed to see post-phone sex, while cleaning his dick, was Noah fucking Puckerman.

Kurt turned red.

“Wait, you totally were!” Puck crowed.

“ _I gotta go Matthew.”_  He mumbled into the phone and hung up.

“Puck, why aren’t you and Kurt coming up yet?” Finn asked impatiently, now ALSO standing in the doorway. “Why are we just standing here? Why is Kurt all blushy? And his crotch covered in-“

“Little dude was having  _phone sex_!” Puck said, sounding like a proud papa.

Finn screamed, and ran from the room.

This resulted in dinner being delayed, so that Kurt could have the  _pleasure_  of explaining to his father, that  _yes_ , he was (somewhat, they had never gone further than handjobs) sexually active, and  _no,_ he didn’t have a boyfriend. 

“I know you said I matter. And I know I do. But I deserve to feel good. I don’t feel like I’m losing something to Matthew. We’re sharing some moments, we like each other, but we won’t ever date, because we’re just not into each other like that.”  
“He should take you out on a date if he wants to have sex with you!” Burt said, sounding kind of enraged and confused.

“I don’t  _want_ him to! I like doing the sex thing with him, it matters to me. We don’t  _want_  to be boyfriends! Don’t you get it? It’s not what we want right now! What me and Matthew have, it’s amazing. But it’s not romantic.”

“Kurt, you shouldn’t throw yourself away-!” His dad looked heartbroken, and Kurt just couldn’t take it. “I matter, dad. I matter, and I choose what I want for myself. He isn’t taking advantage, and neither am I.” and now Kurt was  _crying_. “You believed I was sexually harassing Finn. That’s why I couldn’t tell you about-“ he caught his breath; he’d almost said,  _Karofsky_ , but then continued with a, “the things that happened at McKinley. I didn’t think I  _mattered_. I  _do_   _matter._  Whatever I, as a single gay  boy, wants to do with another, single gay boy is my own business, as long as it’s legal and we both want it, it doesn’t matter whether we’re dating or not.”

Kurt’s face was unhappy, filled with a palpable disappointment, and his eyes burned.

"You treat me like I'm your daughter, dad. And the truth is, that this behavior wouldn’t be okay if I actually was a female, but it’s like you think me being gay means I’m actually not male. I know you don’t want me to get my heart broken, but I should get to make my own mistakes, and in your attempt to protect me, you’ve been breaking my heart."

This was why Dalton was good for Kurt, he thought. He was truly understanding now, that he wasn’t an alien for wanting the same things as everyone else.

How funny, that that had never been anything he’d learnt from Blaine.

* * *

Summer passed in a flurry of working at the garage, shopping, girl’s nights with his New Direction girls, and endless phone calls, skype sessions and meetings in person, with his Dalton friends. Jeff had cried for half an hour on Kurt’s shoulder about a boy hugging Nick in a photo posted on Nick’s Instagram (until Kurt found out that that was Nick’s  _cousin_ , and Jeff was appropriately embarrassed and horrified.) Matthew came home from Texas and gave Kurt the promised handjob, while Flint had stayed at Dalton, adamant that he wouldn’t go back home. He never talked of his family; Kurt didn’t think he ever would.

It was summer, wild and free. S’mores in the Jones’ back yard, Jeff training him out of a gag reflex (“ _swallow around the banana, take it deeper, c’mon, or I’ll get Mercedes to come watch and ridicule!”)_  singing around campfires, setting off fireworks, picking strawberries (and crying in his room later, because Flint didn’t know that the last time he’d picked strawberries was the summer before his mom died, and sometimes it still  _hurt_  that she wasn’t there).

Kurt was used to the world knocking him down when things started going right for him, so he knew, he just  _knew_  that senior year would be crazy.

He’d actually expected the first thing that went wrong to be Matthew ending their arrangement. He’d expected to feel somewhat hurt. But somehow, he didn’t.

It was two weeks before the end of summer, a miserable rainy day, and Matthew was over at his house, with Jeff in tow. At some point during the movie, he looked over at Kurt and said, “I’ve met a guy. He’s straight, but it doesn’t feel right to hook up with you with this… intense crush,” and Kurt just nodded, squeezing his shoulder.

Jeff offered him sympathy, and Kurt told him that under no circumstances should he introduce their parents to each other. “Becoming stepbrothers with your crush is  _such_  a rookie mistake.”

They all laughed, and continued watching  _Twilight,_ chatting about whether they were Team Jacob or Team Edward.

Matthew told him, “I love you man,” before he left, and Kurt smiled. "See ya.

That night his father told him he understood.

*

And then Kurt met a pompous asshole from France, who apparently had no fucking fashion sense, despite having lived in - wait for it -  _Paris._  The fashion capitol of the world.

It was the weekend right before the new school year started, and Kurt was back at Dalton, sitting in one of the study hall rooms working on a poster for his English 4 class. They been given a book to read over the summer and had to do a poster for one of the central themes of the story when they were done and turn it in on the second day of classes. He had finished the book but he had almost forgotten about the poster until yesterday so he was rushing to finish it. He was not going start his senior year off missing homework that he had had 2 months to do.

He started gluing a couple of colorful letters to his dark blue poster-board, trying his best not to make it look sloppy. Not many students were on the premises, as they tried to enjoy their last two days before classes and homework took control of their lives once again. Jeff had gone with Nick and Thad to go swimming and wouldn’t be back until later. Kurt had wanted to go, but he was determined to get this poster done.

He bit his lip as he saw that he put too much glue on one of the letters and cursed under his breath. He went to grab a tissue when he heard footsteps approaching the room. He glanced over at the entrance as a boy that he didn’t recognize approached the room, staring down at his phone and muttering to himself.

Kurt couldn’t really see his face, as it was pointed down, but could clearly see that the guy was tall and had a cringey sense of fashion.  _Popped collar? That’s douchy._

The guy was wearing black and white converse with sorta baggy worn down jeans, topped with an ugly green and navy blue polo shirt, with the aforementioned popped collar. His slight frown grew into an unsatisfied scowl at the choice in clothing.

The guy walked into the room and stopped in his tracks as he threw his head up for a split second in obvious frustration. Kurt caught a glimpse of his face and he determined that this guy was kinda good looking.

The guy pointed his head back down and scratched his head, saying, “ _Comment suis-je censé savoir ce qu’il devrait porter?_ »

Kurt smiled to himself as he realized that this guy must have been the boy from France that Matthew had mentioned and Jeff had cried over during one especially emotional summer day ("Nick will probably love the french guy more than he’ll ever love me!’’). Whatever was wrong, the clear fact was that this guy had to help someone find what to wear and he had no clue. He wasn’t surprised, the obvious lack in sense of fashion this guy had just didn’t point to any abilities with clothes picking.

«Je dirai.» Kurt said.  _I'll say._  That guy could not give  _anyone_ fashion advice.

The boy looked up in alarm, clear that he hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room, and set his eyes on Kurt. Besides the bad fashion, Kurt had to admit that this guy was super hot. He had the eyes down pat.

Kurt smirked at his confused look and so Kurt continued, «Qui a besoin de conseils de mode? »  _Who needs fashion advice?_ He’d asked.

The guy licked his lips and glanced back down to his phone before hesitantly saying, « Un ami. »

Kurt chuckled and crossed his arms, ready to be a little teasing, and said, still in french, _"Then your friend needs to find someone else to get some fashion advice, because, obviously, you need help yourself."_

The guy’s lips twitched upwards and his eyes narrowed, obviously offended. Kurt gave the guy a snide smile. He had no idea why he had chosen to be bitchy to this guy, but he did. And he was kinda enjoying it. It was fun. Sitting in a study hall all day, working on an irrelevant project could probably bring out his bitchy side, who knew.

The guy huffed and stuffed his phone into one of his jean pockets, saying aggressively, «Ce que l'enfer est-ce  que cela veut dire?»

Oh.  _Cute. Guy thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips. Ugh. He actually sounds incredulous._

Kurt nonchalantly started gluing letters again, going over the things in his head and out loud what the guy could do to fix his fashion sense this time going back to English.

«Maybe a blue scarf will compliment your brown eyes and fair skin, combined with a skin tight T-shirt and loose jeans. Or maybe you could try at the very least to not wear shirts that make you look like a total douchebag. And not in a good way. Did you seriously wake up this morning thinking that outfit was nicely put together? If you did then I wouldn’t give advice you to give  _anyone_  fashion advice unless they want to dress badly. »

The guy looked like he was extremely pissed off as Kurt glanced back up to see his reaction.

“Why the hell should I be taking fashion advice from you?’’

Kurt rolled his eyes and ushered the boy over. The boy knitted his eyebrows together and slowly walked over to where he was sitting.

“Show me a picture of your friend.’’ Kurt demanded more than asked. The guy took out his phone and within a few seconds showed Kurt a picture of his friend, explaining that the guy was going on a date.

«I for one think that he should just wear a simple polo shirt. It’s a date, not like he’s going to a ball. Polo’s are nice.»

Kurt scowled and shook his head, « This is what I’m saying. Thank god you stumbled upon me because you’re hopeless. Whatever jeans he wears, his ass needs to look good in it, as both men and women biologically are attracted to a good ass on a guy. The shirt must not be too tight as he will look poor, and also too gangly. He should wear a belt with a decorative buckle, to make his look more distinctive. His scarf should be blue, yes. Preferably a strong blue, cobalt, turquoise, no dusty color if he can avoid it. His eyes will pop. »

Kurt nodded to himself as he studied the picture and finished his fashion diagnosis. He looked over to the guy and rolled his eyes again as he could see the guy was annoyed. He could tell this guy wasn’t gonna take his advice seriously. He ended up being right as the guy stood up and snided, ‘’Whatever gay face.’’

Kurt’s eyes shot up as the guy then proceeded to storm off, annoyance bubbling in his own stomach at the name. As the guy stomped out of the room, Kurt yelled after him, ‘’You’re welcome meerkat’’

Kurt sighed loudly and turned back his attention to his poster, choosing to forget this encounter for now. He guessed he had just made an enemy at Dalton. Hopefully they wouldn’t run into each other too much in the future.

* * *

Yeah, that hope was tragically in vain. In fact, they ran into each other quite a lot after that. The guy was in even most of Kurt’s classes. His name was something along the lines of “I’m a huge unfashionable jerk”, and  _he_ was.

For the most part, they steered clear of each other. Sometimes they would exchange nasty looks - Kurt was a little impressed at how he had his condescending smirk down to an art form - but that was pretty much it. Nasty glares and cold smirks.

Well, until they got paired up for an activity in French class. (Why he even had to take a French class was beyond him -  _he had apparently lived in god damn Paris, he didn’t need to take extra classes! Dammit!)_

Mrs. Krawger told their class one day to pair up with a partner and practice their French. Usually, since he had none of his friends in this class and it had been an odd number, he would do these activities by himself. However, as everyone paired up with their usual partners, it dawned on him that now since there was no longer an odd number in this class, he would have to work with someone else. Of course, that someone else just had to be The Douchebag. Douchebag #2, he conceded to himself, as he thought of how Blaine fucking Anderson had stepped onto a table last week and loudly begun singing  _Firework_  by Katy Perry. In the cafeteria. To the lunch lady. Honestly, Kurt had to admit, that Rachel Berry had sung that song so much better, even with her strange affinity for animal sweaters. And what about “blending in”? Being too “loud”? How he could have dated that douchebag was beyond him.

So jerkface wasn’t the biggest douchebag in the school.

He rolled his eyes to himself and glanced over at the guy, who he still didn’t know the name of, and scowled when their eyes met. They both knew they would have to work together, and they both recoiled in physical disgust at the thought.

Kurt raised his eyebrows and beckoned the guy over to the empty seat beside him with his eyes. The guy rolled his eyes and got up, gathering his things and walking over to his table. He sat down beside Kurt and slumped back, obviously not looking forward to what was about to unfold.

“ **So, how about we try to do this without killing each other. Sound good Mr. CW?”**

Kurt smirked over at the guy, who was lowering his eyebrows in irritation. Gosh, picking on this plebian - make no mistake, he may have money, but he was a plebian nonetheless - in French was so much fun.

“ **Impossible. How do you expect me to sit here and take insults from someone who is cursed with the gayest face I have ever seen in my life.”** The guy let his eyebrows flick upwards once and also put on his best smirk.

_Crap._

Kurt had to admit that this sneaky meerkat was actually pretty hot, especially now that he wasn’t wearing his fugly polo shirts. The Dalton uniform really suited him. If there was one thing Kurt had to say was the guy’s best feature, it would definitely be his beautiful green eyes. Unlike most of the guys here at Dalton, he had so much emotion reflected in them. There was a certain fire that always seemed to flicker in his orbs, and it was hot.

Not that Kurt would EVER let this douchebag of epic proportions know any of this. (and yes, Kurt knew he’d started this argument, but  _honestly_ , the guy had worn a  _polo_ with  _a popped collar_  when Kurt saw him for the first time, it was hard not to dislike him on the spot.)

“ **Well at the very least I guess that just shows your will to fight doesn’t fade easily. If you want to engage in an insult war, then so be it.”**

Kurt paused and started shifting through his papers, “ **I’ll start. First of all, being a dick won’t make yours any bigger. I know it must be hard to sit down every day and not be able to get the honor of having your dick be in pain when closing your legs too close. Do you get what I’m saying? Because even though I can speak fluently in English, French and Spanish, I don’t speak idiot.”**

The guy narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his face into a face that clearly screamed ‘pissed’. It. Was. Glorious.

“ **Aww, it’s so cute seeing you talk about things you don’t understand. I would show you just how big my dick is if I thought you could handle it. I refuse to believe that any sane gay guy would bring his dick anywhere near you.”**

Kurt smiled and shoved his papers into one of his folders. “ **Was I supposed to be offended by that? You should just go polish your crocs and not waste your breath on me, who you’ve mistaken for someone who gives a shit.”**

Kurt licked his lips and shot the meerkat-esque boy at his side a teasing look. The guy crossed his arms and huffed loudly, looking around the room. Kurt focused on organizing the papers in his folder as silence grew between them, glad he had seemed to get the last word.

After a few minutes passed, Kurt looked up when he heard the guy said, “ **Name.”**

Kurt let his eyebrows knit together in a second of confusion, then he realized that the guy was asking for his name. Maybe this meant he would finally learn the name of this snotty criminal chipmunk.

Who was demanding his name, and who had a fire in his eyes that Kurt had rarely seen.

He licked his lips again as they suddenly became dry and breathed out, “ **Kurt Hummel. Yourself?”**

The guy nodded and bit down on his bottom lip before saying, “ **Sebastian Smythe.”**

Kurt nodded to Sebastian and went back to his papers. An air full of awkwardness started to surround them as neither knew what to say next. Kurt glanced at Sebastian a few times every so often, wondering if he should say anything else. Maybe he could try and be a little more pleasant.

But before he could say anything, the loud ringing of a bell sounded. He looked up in alarm and started putting his folder back into his bag once he realized that it was the bell for next period. Once he was done putting his stuff away, he glanced once again at the seat next to him, feeling slightly disappointed when he saw that it was vacant and Sebastian had already left the classroom.

* * *

Sebastian wasn’t a bully, but neither did he seem to be a very nice person. Kurt quickly discovered that. He was crude, sarcastic, and had a reputation of being a player. Kurt wasn’t sure how much of that last statement was the truth, and how much was just elitist private school boys being horrible gossips. (The story about him banging his headmaster at his old school had to be a lie, didn’t it?)

Especially since  _Kurt_  became the hot gossip about one and a half week into the semester.

 _Apparently,_ Matthew and Flint had been talking outside of Chemistry. Flint had been complaining about how Mr Brown never let them do any explosions, and Matthew had been talking about how Kurt and Jeff had wanted to make a glittery explosion.

Matthew had then mentioned how tired he was of crushing on straight boys - “Anthony doesn’t even  _look_  my way,  _god,_ I miss hooking up with Kurt.”

 _Apparently,_  Thad had walked by, and he had heard this. And he’d told Blaine. And then  _the first Warbler’s practice of the year_  had been hijacked by Kurt’s ex, who was yapping about how Kurt had broken his heart and now was a slut, and  _hadn’t he listened to his dad at all_ , and  _Matthew obviously didn’t like him at all_ -

Kurt would take this in stride though. He would refrain from poisoning Blaine’s food, or even cutting into him with his vicious, vicious words. He would refrain from

He was even considering using one of his favorite French insult, “You have the brain of a cheese sandwich” on Blaine instead of Smythe, but decided Sebastian Smythe would appreciate it better.

Some in the gossiping crowds said that Kurt was bisexual (how they arrived at that conclusion was astounding, since Matthew was, you know,  _male_ , but who knew how their minds worked) and that he had been afraid of himself when telling Blaine off for thinking he was bi (instead of, you know, just being plain  _hurt_  that his crush who was an openly gay boy would rather go out with a girl than him).

Some were of the opinion that he was being a harlot (kissing two boys willingly in his life was apparently the worst thing he could do). 

Luckily, these were only gossipy boys, and not gossipy girls (and certainly not a mix of both), and as such, the gossiping wasn’t too bad. They didn’t whisper behind his back; it was moreover a thing they debated as they played Halo, talking about Megan Fox’s tits or discussed what solos would work with Blaine’s voice. (Blaine had begged off doing duets, as that would only remind him of Kurt. His ex. Who Blaine had broken up with  _more than five months ago._ Oh yeah.)

But had this happened at McKinley, Kurt had no doubt the gossip would travel fast and be twice as brutal. Not to mention, there was a closeted gay boy who probably would be both furious and heartbroken Kurt had been hooking up with guys, since he himself wasn’t out. Dave Karofsky needed help with his anger management. Kurt wasn’t going to be the one to give it, but he did think it was necessary.

* * *

“ **I was planning on telling Blaine Anderson that he has the brain of a cheese sandwich, but, you know. I think you’d appreciate the insult more. So, you have the brain of a cheese sandwich.”** Kurt said, as he slid into his seat next to Sebastian the week after Blaine had started his “Kurt is trash and broke my heart” campaign.

Sebastian leered and shot back that Kurt would be more the type to enjoy a meat sandwich.

At lunch in the cafeteria the next day, Sebastian picked a cheese sandwich and mouthed something along the lines of “I’m eating my brain,” at Kurt, who stood later down the line. Then he’d smirked, and Kurt had hid his smile. Then he’d picked a meat sandwich.

* * *

The weeks passed, and Kurt and Sebastian became some unlikely, weird kind of bantering  _friends_. Sebastian asked Kurt what to sing for his audition to the warblers, and Kurt had suggested multiple Broadway numbers - because Sebastian’s responses were funny (“ **My cock doesn’t enjoy vagina, nor would it want to turn into one. Anyway, all the truly good songs featuring men are duets, and I can only audition alone.” “You sound like you actually watch musicals.” “Oh fuck you.”)** and then said that Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake, while a couple years old, probably fit what the council wanted, while still going with Sebastian’ personality.

Kurt had sat in the posh room along with the rest of the Warblers, listening to Sebastian sing with a smoldering voice that he was  _bringing sexy back_ , and thought to himself that if Sebastian was in the room, sexy was definitely back.

* * *

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Kurt was in the closet. Well, the Dalton closets in the dorm rooms were actually not all that big (or perhaps his wardrobe was simply too extensive. Also, he had to let his roommate have part of it.) so he wasn’t  _in_ it, but he was in front of the closet, at the very least, picking out an outfit for the movies. He would be going with Jeff and Flint - Matthew was going to be playing hockey with Anthony, despite having no clue how to play it and Anthony being on his school’s team and quite good. Kurt had repeated his story about disastrous straight crushes (“be careful or you’ll end up with a new brother!”)

Perhaps everyone had to go through a crush of the Finn Hudson variety in their life?

Kurt picked up a paisley jacket. It resembled the one he had originally envisoned for his outfit, but the actual one  - with a beautiful  _golden_ paisley pattern, rather than this jacket’s decidedly more bronze-y pattern that felt as though it was old and whispering its secrets to him - had been left at his dad’s house when he moved; it wasn’t as though he used his normal clothes all that often, sadly. However, he had insisted, that were he to go out with his friends today, they’d be wearing their normal clothes. Hallelujah.

He shrugged on the jacket, and looked in the mirror, deciding that the pants needed to be a shade lighter, and found the right pair on the bottom shelf.  _Perfect._  He even had three whole minutes to get down to the parking lot where Jeff and Flint were waiting.

Kurt Hummel strutted out of his dorm room, brown bag over his shoulder (it matched his shoes). He almost missed the figure who was attempting to lock themselves into their own dorm room. Sebastian was juggling a stack of books and a key in his arms; his fingers kept fumbling around the key.

“Here, I can help,” Kurt said, with a wide grin, grabbing the five books and letting Sebastian get to unlock the door. His hand seemed to be a little shaky. At least that was the excuse Kurt told himself he’d use if anyone asked why he put a hand over Sebastian’s and directed it more directly to the keyhole. The skin was warm, and maybe Kurt was just hormonal and in serious need of someone to relieve him, but it seemed more likely that it was just Sebastian’s breath close to his ear that was making his entire body feel hot and his fingers tingle. “You. Uh. Thank you,” Sebastian said, his eyes had a strange look in them, as Kurt turned his head and looked at him. “No problem.” Kurt said, a soft smile on his lips.

The movie was even better than he’d thought it’d be; and he felt more at home, more settled in his own skin than he had for a long time.

* * *

Their friendship was becoming more of a real thing in the following weeks, with Sebastian sometimes joining him for lunch, and on a memorable break before French Sebastian even attempted to help him with math in the library. Problem was, that Sebastian was worse at math than he was, only beat by Brittany S. Pierce.

“She wrote ‘rainbows’ as an answer? You’re shitting me, right? You’re having me on, right?”

Kurt shook his head solemnly, and laughed. The sunlight coming through the library window fell on Sebastian’s cheek  _just right_ , and Kurt felt a little bit dizzy and a whole lot like kissing Sebastian’s incredulous look off his lips would be  _just right_  too.

The bell rang, and cut through his track of thought like a knife. “French, let’s go,  _mon petit chou.”_  Kurt laughed. “I’m a cabbage?” Sebastian grinned playfully. “C’mon. Ms Krawper will kill us if we don’t finish that assignment on Napoleon!”

Kurt grumbled good-naturedly that he still thought they should have picked French clothes designers as their project subject, instead of freaking Napoleon.

But when they reached the French class, they were apparently going to be taught by a young, beautiful substitute teacher that day. Kurt sighed. Not that he didn’t admire her hair, and he also thought her manicure was amazing, but bringing in a young, sexy lady, to an all boy’s school was not a smart move. Even if she was just a substitute.

“ **I’m Ms Lucroy, and I have been selected to teach you today, as your teacher, Ms Krawper, is under investigation with someone named Sue Sylvester. Apparently someone from her star cereal team is going to this class.** ” The lady said reading aloud from a piece of paper, before she set them to work. Kurt sunk lower down in his seat. Ugh. Sue Sylvester. Apparently she wanted her star Cheerio back, and would investigate his teachers for any crack. Well, Ms Krawper was competent, intelligent and brutal enough to keep them at work for an entire lesson. She’d survive.

In a way, he doubted she wanted him back at McKinley. She knew he was better off here.

He and Sebastian finished their work quickly, and began doing what they did best; shooting insults at each other. As French insults are quite strange, Kurt loved it when they really went all out with hissed insults while they worked diligently on their notes or just sat drawing or texting at the same time.

“ **You are a diarrhea pump with all the shit you spew.”**

“ **You’re as smart as the bottom of your feet!”**

“ **You have the body of a dog and the IQ of a five year old!”**

“ **You are a potato with the face of a Guinea pig!”**

Kurt thought he deserved bonus points for comparing Sebastian to a rodent, but then-

“ **Do you know how long your mother needs to take a shit? Nine months!”**

The world stopped, Kurt’s pen dropped from his grasp. All the blood left Kurt’s face, leaving him pale as a sheet, his eyes watery. His hand clenched the table so tightly his knuckles grew white. Sebastian looked up, perhaps just because Kurt hadn’t responded verbally or because he realized that insulting mothers was something just you don’t do, even when insulting each other grievously. This had just been  _banter._

And then Kurt whispered “my mom’s dead,” in English. His voice felt like broken glass coming out of his throat, because where had that been  _coming from_? He hadn’t expected his mother to come up, and they’d been  _bantering_ , and  _god, why wouldn’t his legs work, he needed to get away from here._

“Shit.” Sebastian said. Kurt could hear the distress in his voice, and he couldn’t  _breathe,_  he needed his  _mom,_  and his eyes burned with the effort of keeping in the tears, as he tried to push back from the table.

Sebastian grabbed his wrist, and stilled him very gently. “Kurt, Kurt, listen- I-“ Kurt stilled - became quiet stone like. “ **Ms Lucroy, Kurt feels sick. We have finished our work, and I really think I should follow him to his room. Is that acceptable?”**  Kurt heard Sebastian explain to the substitute teacher.

She responded in an affirmative, and Sebastian gave the woman the project they’d finished, and led him out of the room. He led him all the way to Kurt’s dorm, snatched Kurt’s key from his bag, and locked them in.

Then, finally, Kurt burst into tears. Big, ugly, tears.

Sebastian guided Kurt to the bed that obviously belonged to him (Kurt could recognize the Egyptian cotton SFERRA sheets in his sleep, and, apparently through his ugly tears as well). Kurt was in a mess of tears and he felt - ashamed. He was never known to be a cry baby, and if he could help it then he wouldn’t be crying in front of Sebastian of all people right now. But the damage had been done. To him his mother was always a sensitive subject. Just thinking of her would make him a little misty eyed.  Hearing someone tell a joke about her was ten times worse. Telling people who called the house phone that  _no, she’s dead, this is her son_  sometimes left him a mess on the kitchen floor, shaking and quivering.

He could tell Sebastian didn’t know what to do as he just continued to cry next to him. He didn’t blame him though. If Sebastian had been in his position, Kurt would definitely not have a clue what to do either.

His crying and their awkward silence continued on for another good 10 minutes before he was beginning to calm down. He was becoming aware of the fact that Sebastian’s hand was on his back, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. He wasn’t sure how long he had been doing that, but now that Kurt was aware of it, he started to lean into Sebastian’s touch. Looked like his attempt at soothing him was working, and Kurt had to admit that maybe Sebastian did know a little bit about what to do.

His sobs became hiccups that left him breathless, and then they became heavy breaths. He brought up his hands to wipe at his now damp eyes, trying to rub out the remaining tears. He had now completely registered the fact that he had just cried in Sebastian’s arms, and he couldn’t be any more embarrassed.

“Are you okay now?” He heard Sebastian whisper. Kurt removed his now damp hands from his now dry eyes and looked over at him. Sebastian looked worried and he could see all of the regret that swam in those green orbs he had become quite fond of. He knew Sebastian hadn’t meant any harm. He didn’t know that his mom was dead.

Kurt looked away and nodded slightly.

“Yeah. Sorry. I can never really take it when people talk about her in any sense. It’s always been my weakness.”

Sebastian licked his lips and took Kurt’s hand, which in turn made him look down at it in surprise. He looked back up at Sebastian with a questioning look on his face.

“Do you...want to talk about it?”

Kurt blinked a few times before he realized what Sebastian had asked. He had never really talked about his mother before with anyone other than his dad. He always assumed that he would become the mess he had become just a few seconds ago if he did. And if he was open to the idea, was he really willing to let that person be Sebastian? He hadn’t even talked to Jeff about his mother. He wasn’t even sure Jeff knew she was dead - only that he had a stepmother in Carole. Opening up was scary and it  _hurt._  Flint didn’t know about that night he’d cried about the strawberries.

Well, apparently he was going to let Sebastian be that person as he swallowed and looked at the wall ahead of him.

“My mother was...a good woman. She was bright, sweet, and always knew what to do. I was bullied a lot in elementary school and didn’t have any friends, but because she was at home waiting for me, I was never really sad. She always made me feel better. She was like...my guardian angel.”

Kurt could feel his eyes tear up again as the memories of his mother came flooding back. He squeezed Sebastian’s hand as though it was a lifeline as he tried his best to continue.

“My favorite memory of her was when it was Christmas and us three would hang up ornaments on our tree and wetook small breaks to eat cookies, drink eggnog, and dance and sing to Christmas songs. My mom’s voice was so gentle and sweet, while my dad’s voice was rough and not very good.” He could feel his tears slide down his face as he chuckled at the memory of his dad’s horrible attempt at singing. He squeezed Sebastian’s hand again.

“We were a happy family. But...” Kurt’s voice broke off as he turned his attention to the ground. Sebastian squeezed his hand. “But then she got cancer. She was in the hospital a lot. Back then I didn’t really understand what was going on and the gravity of it all. I just convinced myself that she had the flu and would be all better in a couple of days or weeks. I think I lost her when I was six, even though she died two years later than that. That was when she had her first really strong reaction to the chemo, when she threw up a lot and cried. And I thought that all that pain she was feeling had to be breaking her apart and she had to have lost herself. I sort of knew she wouldn’t come back whole, I think. I did a lot of puzzles back then. Thought I might be able to put her broken parts back together. Sometimes she took too long to recognize me. And then all of a sudden….she was gone. Her body didn’t work anymore, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to put her back together.”

Kurt’s heavy breathing turned back into hiccups. He closed his eyes tightly and let out a loud sob. He squeezed Sebastian’s hand harder than before, digging his nails into the bone and begged for the tears and pain in his heart to stop.

Another few minutes passed before he began to calm down again. His eyes now stung with irritation and head was starting to hurt as well. He figured it would be best to stop crying before he gave himself a migraine.

Once he was just about done. He licked his lips and lessened his grip on Sebastian’s hand, feeling bad for holding it too tightly. Crescent moon shapes had formed, but Sebastian hadn’t even squeaked.

He sniffed and spoke again before another spell of awkward silence could fall upon them. “I can’t believe I actually just cried on you over a mom joke.”

He attempted to chuckle but cringed when it came out broken and sour. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sebastian shaking his head.

“No, it’s my fault. Mom jokes are always risky with anyone, I shouldn’t have even thought of doing one.”

Kurt made a half smile over at Sebastian. “Maybe...maybe we should set boundaries. Things we can or can’t joke about with each other. Obviously my line is mom jokes. And I can’t stand being called demeaning names because of my sexuality, whether it’s from straight people or gay people.”

Sebastian half smiled as well. “Okay, that seems fair. Then I guess one thing I hate is when people call me a ‘ _Daddy’s boy’_.”

Kurt narrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. “Why's that?”

Sebastian huffed and shifted. “My dad is rich, as you know. And people always joke about me sucking up to him or...doing other questionable things….to get his money. And while I do admit to being spoiled, I don’t ‘suck up to him’, or do other - other things to get his money. He just chooses to spoil me for whatever reason. Anyway, it’s just plain annoying and I’m tired of hearing it, so just don’t do it too.”

Kurt smiled and nodded. “I think I can do that.”

Sebastian looked him in the eyes and licked his lips again. “Look. I know what it’s like to lose a family member. It wasn’t as big as my mom or dad, but I was close enough to them to be devastated by their death. It’s hard, I know, but all I can say is that you can hold them in your heart and carry on with your life. It will never be painless, and it will always hurt I’m not gonna lie to you, but if not for you then carry on for your mom. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to in pain like you are now. My grand-mére was an amazing woman, and she’s in here.” Sebastian pointed at his chest.

 _That was so cheesy,_  Kurt thought, as he felt a warm feeling bubble in his chest as he continued to stare into Sebastian’s eyes. He became aware of his hand becoming sweaty in Sebastian’s and felt his face heat up. He quickly removed his hand and turned his head down towards the floor. He made sure to smile and say a quiet, “Thanks.”

Kurt tried to come up with a topic in his mind to bring up so it would not be awkward.

“Hey, um, I’ve always been curious about what it was like for you to live in Paris.” He said as he glanced back up at Sebastian.

Sebastian smirked and said, “Wanna hear about this French boy’s past huh Hummel?”

Kurt smirke back and bumped his shoulder playfully against Sebastian’s. “French boys do interest me. Well, at least ones that don’t have terrible fashion sense.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “I don’t dress that bad!”

Kurt raised his eyebrows and shook his head in disagreement, a small smile curling his lips.

“Here. This is what I wore in France.” Sebastian said as he dug his phone out of his pocket and began to show Kurt random pictures of him in different outfits. Kurt laughed at an especially bad one with a pink polo, popped collar and too-loose baggy pants, as he was stood outside a building - a bar or a club it seemed -with a rainbow banner. “My first time at a gay bar.” Sebastian said with a smile, and flipped to the next picture.

* * *

Kurt shut the door to his room and leaned against the door in exasperation.

Sebastian had very well proved just how badly dressed he had always been. He had confirmed that Sebastian had a weird fixation on polo shirts. Much like how Blaine had an obsession with bow ties...just not  _as_ bad.

After he had had enough of the ugly polos, he had gotten Sebastian to spill about his life in Paris. Apparently he had been born in America, but after his dad found a good job in France that could get them a lot of money, they moved there when he was 5. From there he learned to speak French, went to school there, made a good friend, got extremely spoiled, and moved back to Ohio this summer when he himself decided he wanted to get by on his own down here and finish high school here. He planned to go to NYU to pursue the career of being a lawyer. “I kind of like the idea of fixing people’s lives by arguing.”

He ran his hands through his hair as he slid to the floor. After they had laughed and finished talking, Sebastian had left to go his own dorm room. Kurt knew as soon as the same warm bubbly feeling had grew what was happening. He had felt this with Blaine before they started going out.

He knew he had messed up. He had fallen in crush with a terribly dressed douche.

Wonderful.

Especially since there had been about fifteen different boys Sebastian had made out with in front of the camera for those pictures. And while Kurt wasn’t judging him for it - goodness knew no one could blame the boys, no matter how much Kurt said Sebastian had a meerkat face he was  _so_ damn  _attractive,_  and Sebastian  _was_ a guy, just like Kurt - he did feel jealous and inadequate and also a bit lost. He had entered the room feeling lost because of his dead mother, and now both the loss of his mother and the knowledge that he was crushing on  _Sebastian_  was weighing on his heart.

**To: Bust My Windows Out My Car: ‘Cedes, do you think I have a complex where I want to date people who have terrible fashion sense so I can save them from themselves?**

**From: Bust My Windows Out My Car: statistically speaking, it seems that way honey. 100% of your crushes have been this type of person. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t want to date me!**

**From: Bust My Windows Out My Car: Is it the guy you’ve been hooking up with?**

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. He’d  _told_  Mercedes he wasn’t hooking up with Matthew anymore. They’d talked about it during one of their three-hour-phone conversations. He remembered, because Mercedes had been acting as though he had to have had his heart broken over it, rom-com style, even though he honestly could say that while his penis missed action, his heart didn’t.

Maybe he and Mercedes just weren’t as close as they used to be.

 **To: Bust The Windows Out My Car: Nevermind.**  He bit his lip, deleted it, and wrote,  **Nevermind. Miss you tho ‘Cedes.**

He’d talk to Jeff about it after Warbler’s practice tomorrow.

* * *

Jeff had honestly not been much help at first. He was grumbling about how the Warblers were doing Uptown Girl and how the council was only deliberating on whether they should give the solo to Blaine, Blaine, or Blaine. There was a slight possibility that Sebastian would get the solo. “But  _Nick’s voice is perfect for this song!”_  Jeff screeched angrily, kicking his bed, before flinging himself down. “I hate seeing him upset.”

Kurt agreed; Nick was perfect for the song, he really was. They were not even actually  _singing_ at the moment. It was all just talk. Should Blaine have the solo? Should they bring in kazoos? Harmonica?

And Sebastian was warm and bright, lounging in the sofa across from Kurt, with his smiles that he was fighting back at inappropriate moments, and his remarks that were never said loudly enough that the chairman heard them. (“Kindly remove that stick from your ass Thad, then we probably  _won’t_ be mocking you,” and “oh my god not the kazoos. Fucking go fuck yourself,” were the least insulting ones. Kurt still thought he was attractive. God fucking dammit.)

”I like him. I like him way too much.” Kurt told Jeff sorrowfully, as he draped himself over Flint’s bed. It smelled of coconut (which was nice) and cheesecake (which was nicer).

“He’s a jerk with a terrible affinity for  _polos_ , and I have a fucking crush on him.”

“You’ve felt that way for a while, I think. You’re just realizing it now.” Jeff said. Kurt turned his head to look at his friend, who was now sitting on the bed, holding his Albus Dumbledore doll he apparently had covered in glitter.

“Follow your heart Kurt.” He made the doll nod sagely at him - because Albus Dumbledore always knew better.

“Dumbledore fell in love with an evil wizard, had to defeat him and imprison him, and then he died alone, without a boyfriend. I’m not taking any kind of advice from him.”

Jeff blinked at him. “You’re over-complicating things Kurt. Also, way to make his story be super simple.”

Kurt sighed and waved his hand “then - then go kiss Nick the next time you see him,  _follow your heart._ ”

Jeff grimaced, “I see your point. We’re pathetic though.”

* * *

Kurt agreed. He agreed one hundred percent. He was pathetic. Sebastian and Kurt were  _friends_ now. They insulted each other, joked with each other, and messed up each other’s hair, and they toed the line of bringing the other to insanity - and maybe it was just Kurt, but he felt the undercurrent of chemistry crackle through his veins even more now, than when they used to do their insult-sparring matches. Now they  _knew_ each other. Sometimes, Kurt would fling out an insult that seemed to hit too close to Sebastian’s heart - he had one, it seemed - and his eyebrows would furrow and his teeth seemingly biting the inside of his cheek, and then Kurt would soothe the burn of the words with a hand grazing over Sebastian’s knuckles, or a nudge with his elbow.

And Sebastian would smile back mischievously, and would shoot back something clever himself.

On the days where Kurt almost hit too hard - or worse, on the days when his words  _did_  strike Sebastian - he ended up in  Sebastian’s room, where Sebastian told him why his joke about how Sebastian probably got thrown out of church had hit him a little bit.

“It wasn’t a big thing,” he said, looking at Kurt. “I’m not all that much about religion. But. I’d hooked up with the preacher’s son of one of the churches in Paris. And  _apparently_ , that church was quite against homosexuality. I didn’t know that though - I just thought it was one of the more relaxed ones that also are in Paris. I wanted to go in, and talk to the kid, because he was pretty good, and he was fun to be around, despite him not drinking and whatever. So. I’m walking in, and the boy comes running out, and he’s pushing me out of the door of the church, whispering that I have to go, because his dad somehow saw a picture of me, kissing another boy. Not him - but, just another boy. On Facebook, I think? So, he was safe. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, he was babbling on and on, and then his dad is coming out, and he’s shouting and shouting, and then I got evicted from that church. Just the building, they didn’t have enough on me to evict me from every church in the world, but still. I still don’t know what happened to the boy. Last I checked, he was still firmly in the closet, giving out bread and wine to the Christian Parisians.”

As he spoke, his eyes had gone unfocused. Not misty, not even really  _sad_ , just unfocused, as though he was thinking of a boy he left behind in France. Kurt’s stomach curled and twisted and he felt sick.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t in love. He ended up being my ex-something, though. My ex-maybe, my ex-almost.”

Somehow, when they had these talks, they always ended up holding hands. It felt intimate and warm, and like something precious to be protected at all costs.

* * *

“I’d do anything to keep holding his hand,” Kurt said quietly to Matthew one night. He was watching  _Avatar_ with Jeff and Flint and Matthew (who was still stupidly into Anthony-the-straight-boy, but trying to get over him, because it was just not worth the pain, and Anthony could never give him what he needed).

They were all sitting in Flint’s bed at Dalton, back against the wall, almost all light off and watching the movie, Jeff in-between Kurt’s legs and Matthew curled up next to Kurt, with Flint on the other side of Kurt, the computer in front of them.

“same, girl,” Jeff groaned dramatically, and lets his bleached head loll back. “Nick gave me the last of his yoghurt at lunch yesterday - just because he knew it was my favorite! He said, “I know you like peach yoghurt, you can have mine!” What does that even  _mean_?”

“He gave you his yoghurt, not his virginity, chill out,” Flint’s voice cut through Jeff’s rambling.

“You’re regretting becoming part of a group where you’re the only straight boy, aren’t you?” Kurt said with a smile (and he couldn’t even really believe he was saying that! He was in a room with a bisexual guy, another gay guy, and a straight guy, and somehow he was still in Ohio!)

Dalton might not be the utopia he had imagined upon arriving, but in truth, he enjoyed it, even if the uniforms were stifling him. He tugged on his soft designer sweatshirt with a soft grin - and listened to Matthew talk to them about how Anthony was so frustrating but so hot that he couldn’t let go of the dream of being with him.

They all told Matthew to be careful, because he didn’t need to get a crush-turned-stepbrother.

“N’avi is a strange language.” Flint said pensively, watching the blue girl on the screen speak rapidly.  
“A boy at the McKinley Glee club had taught himself the entire language.” Kurt reminisced, thinking of Sam Evans who had attempted to charm Quinn Fabray with softly spoken beautiful words about her eyes in a fantasy language. Then he thought of Sebastian’s fiery eyes and quick wit, and slender fingers and warm hands. He wanted Sebastian. Later that night, he ended up in bed panting under his breath, cursing furiously as he jerked himself off, thinking of Sebastian’s hot breath and eyes and lips and teeth, and wondering if he liked to bite, and if he did, whether he’d bite Kurt’s thighs before he touched his dick, and he came with the thought of things he doesn’t know if Sebastian likes and things he has never even tried.

It was not like Kurt would want sex the very day they got together, if they ever did, because Kurt actually liked the romance and the waiting game and the build-up and the getting-to-know you aspect of being together, but in the dark of night, it was easy to imagine these things. He cleaned himself off, and climbed under his blanket, and shut his eyes tightly shut. Sebastian Smythe was dancing through his dreams.

* * *

“This is the absolute worst!” Kurt exclaimed as he flopped down harshly onto Jeff’s bed. Jeff looked over at him,  from his seat at the desk, with a puzzled - though slightly distracted - expression on his face

“What exactly is the absolute worst?”

Kurt huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have come to the horrible realization that I fancy Sebastian Smythe. Like, seriously  _fancy him_. Like beyond a cutesy little crush.”

Jeff made a hissing noise and agreed, “Yeah, that’s bad. What’s with the Britishness though?” He flicked his fringe out of his eyes with his pen, before he circled the answer to a math problem.

”It sounds more distinguished, Kurt explained, and then dragged his hands down his face and made a couple deep sighs. (Never let it be said that he wasn’t dramatic). He was really screwed this time. Why did he always seem to fall for the people he either had zero chance with or were assholes. Well, now that time had passed he couldn’t really say Sebastian was a through and through asshole, especially after all he had learned of the boy. But still, he absolutely had zero chance with him.

Jeff patted him on the shoulder and sighed as well, while he flung his math book across the room. “We both got it pretty bad.”

Kurt nodded and re-crossed his arms. “Why can’t we just have normal romantic endeavors? I think we are pretty great people so why are we the ones getting screwed over?”

Jeff smiled slightly and patted his back. Kurt looked over at him and smiled slightly back, before he groaned loudly, and buried his head in a pillow. “Why couldn’t the two of  _us_  not just be into each other?”                           

Jeff laughed and tried to get serious as he said, “If only. Forget Klaine, Kurtbastian and Niff, Jurt would be the staple couple of this school.”

“If this was the New Directions, we’d just sing a song to declare our intentions and they’d sing something back at us, and then we’d know,” Kurt complained.

“Well, why can’t we? We’re in a Glee club as well, aren’t we?” Jeff said excitedly, and jumped onto his bed, landing heavily on Kurt’s legs. “I’ve wanted to sing a Lady Gaga song in the Warblers forever, but I never dared to do it by myself, and, you know, I never dared to ask Nick…”

Kurt looked at him with vague interest in his eyes, before sitting up and massaging his calves through the slacks. “But how would we even get them interested in us?”

“See, that’s where our Queen Gaga comes in!” Jeff said, twirling his hand around flamboyantly, accidentally hitting an open box of glitter on his windowsill, creating a cloud of rainbow glitter rising into the air.

“Oops.”

Kurt laughed, as the cloud settled, and the room was covered in glitter - from Jeff’s eyelashes to Flint’s black sheets and the scary posters now had glittery teeth. “Yes, oops,” Kurt said, grumpier now, as he was realizing that he also had got glitter in his hair

“We’ll sing Gaga, because they have to like us for who we are, but they also should be attracted to us, so we have to be sexy.”

Kurt blinked owlishly. “So… We have to be anyone other than who we are?”

Jeff sighed and fell back onto the bed in frustration. “You’re right. Fuck this noise. I’m going to die a virgin. Or even worse, I’m going to die being a virgin who owns fifteen cats!”

Kurt smiled an innocent smile, and said, “didn’t know you were into pussies, Jeff.”

Jeff jolted in surprise and scandal.

“That,” Jeff said, and pointed at Kurt. “ _That_ is why we aren’t into each other. You and Sebastian, you’re two birds of one feather.”

Kurt grinned filthily, and said in a suggestive voice, “well I’d like to play with his…  _feather…_ ”

“Oh god, you used to be so  _innocent,_ Kurt. He corrupted you!”

Kurt shrugged, even as the wayward thought that  _Santana would be proud_  flies into his head. He wondered how she was now; if she’d told Brittany she was in love with her, if she was willing to come out now. He wondered if her life was happier now, or if she was still full of love she masked as hatred with a drop - no, a bucketful - of resentment. He couldn’t help but hope that she had stripped herself of that hate and resentment and bitterness.

 “ _Jurt_ sounds horrible anyway, I think  _Keff_ sounds a lot better.” Kurt said with a laugh. They spent the next 15 minutes going over their couple name and how they could never come up with one that felt just right. They decided that the fact that they couldn’t come up with a nice sounding couple name was further evidence that they could never be together in  _that_  way. So after that 15 minutes, they just laughed the idea off.

And then Jeff nudged him in the side, and said, “for real though. I think we could do it,”

* * *

Their plan of hi-jacking a Warblers’ meeting with a song by Lady Gaga, involved having to have the arrangement of the song ready. Luckily, they had just the person to help them out - Flint. Flint was the one to re-arrange most of the choir’s songs into acapella - he knew who was especially good at sounding like a mandolin, and who was good at kazoos, and if Kurt and Jeff could show up with a plan for what the song would sound like, well - the council would have quite a bit of problems opposing it.

Convincing Flint was essential though. They sent a text to Flint asking him if he wanted to go to the Lima Bean, gorge on scones and drink a lot of coffee while planning world domination. They also texted Matthew and told him what they were planning, asking if he wanted to join, despite not being a Warbler. He begged off, told them he was stuck with an English essay, and besides, he didn’t really care much about Warbler business.

Flint texted back,  **Anything is better than study sessions with Jonathan - dude’s a whiz with bikes but give him a history book and he’s a dumbass. I’m in.**

“We’re not wearing uniforms,” Kurt told Jeff resolutely as he marched to the door, glitter raining to the floor as he got up. It was rather pointless to say it though - Jeff knew of his hatred of the stuffy clothes. “Yes, I know, the patriarchy created these uniforms so that they could squash any form of creativity out of us, just go shower and then find some clothes.”

Kurt followed his orders, and, after a grueling fifteen minutes where he was having trouble figuring out what to wear, he finally had an outfit. He grabbed his coat, but didn’t put it on - it was just backup, just in case it was cold. His outfit was fabulous. He could probably even have met Sebastian, and not feel flustered in it.

The universe seemed to want to prove him wrong - because when Kurt stepped out of the dorm room, he stepped directly into Sebastian, who was standing by the door, seemingly deliberating over knocking.

And Kurt  _did_  feel flustered.  _Screw you, Universe._

“You’re wearing your own clothes.” Sebastian said, his face looking dumbstruck, as though whatever he had been planning to say had been blown out of his mind at the sight of the black, plain Alenxander McQueen shirt made of 100% cotton, the tight pants with a bronze brocade pattern, not to mention the detachable, bedazzled collar Kurt had added to the shirt.

“Yes.” Kurt said defensively, his hand shooting up to fiddle with the collar, then smoothening out the fabric reflecsively. “It’s Alexander McQueen. Got a problem with it?”

Sebastian blinked. “No - I was just - I love it.”

“You don’t sound very surprised,” Kurt said with a soft smile, swaying slightly back and forth on the back of his feet. He knew that he should really be going, but honestly, a few minutes talking to Sebastian was exactly what he needed right now.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Sebastian said slowly, stringing the words together, licking his lips. Kurt watched the tongue attentively, and the following bop of Sebastian’s Adam’s apple when he swallowed was riveting. “I know how much you hate the uniform, and I just wanted to tell you, that I love your clothes. They’re strange and - and colorful and I don’t always get them, but the best part of any day is if you are wearing your own clothes. They have,“-Sebastian gestured a bit towards Kurt’s pants -“these  _patterns_  on them, and I feel like the clothes are speaking a language of their own, and if I understood fashion, perhaps I could understand what the clothes are saying. Maybe I’d understand  _you._ ”

Kurt’s mouth felt dry, his heart was hammering out of chest, and the air was so heavy and thick he found it hard to breathe.

“I-“ he began, his voice coming out as a breathy whisper, stepping closer to Sebastian’s heat.

“Kurt! For fuck’s sake, we’re meeting Flint at Starbucks in 13 minutes and you’re still dawdling! I told you to just keep the glitter on if you couldn’t get it off in the shower!” Jeff was running towards the two of them, effectively shattering the moment, snapping his fingers.

Kurt sent him a murderous glare, but it did not help, Jeff kept talking, and grabbed Kurt’s arm to pull him down the hallway, leaving him to send a desperate look after Sebastian.

“Why the fuck would you  _do_  that?” Kurt hissed at the blond when he had been pulled down to the grand stair-case. Jeff turned and shoved his expensive phone in Kurt’s hands. “Look.” Kurt looked down; on it was a locked screen covered with a message from

 **From Nick**   _❤❤_   **: You hang out with Kurt so much these days, I barely even see you.**

“He’s mad at me,” Jeff said, looking anxious. “He normally uses like, seven different emoticons when we text, and this time he didn’t use  _any_.”

“Why did he text you this?” Kurt asked curiously, opening the side door of the building and letting Jeff past him first.   
“Well he asked if I wanted to help him out with Psychology homework, and I had to tell him I had plans with you and Flint. Jeff bit his lip anxiously.

“He’s jealous,” Kurt said, thinking back on his past Warblers meetings. When Kurt weren’t focused on Sebastian or on whatever song they were practicing, he had noticed how Nick looked at Jeff with a lost puppy look in his eyes, even when they were practically in each other’s laps.

“You think so?” Jeff asked, a frown on his face.

“Just text him and ask him to hang out tomorrow afternoon,” Kurt said, handing the phone back to Jeff. “Yeah. Okay,” Jeff said, frown still present, but fired off the message.

“C’mon losers!” Flint was slouching against the side of his car, waiting for them, wearing an all-black ensemble, as well as fingerless gloves and a collar with small spikes on it. Kurt looked at Jeff’s outfit. He was wearing a rainbow tie-dye shirt that sparkled a bit in the weak Ohio sun, and a book-bag which always contained his laptop.

“If I didn’t know that you’re really a big marshmallow on the inside, I would be so scared of you right now,” Jeff said conversationally as he reached the boy. Flint grunted. “Come on, I want coffee.”

* * *

They bribed Flint with scones and told him they would clean his and Jeff’s room (“glitter gets everywhere” he had grumbled) and he agreed to help them figure out what their acapella melody would be. Perhaps it also helped that Flint had wanted to work on something different for quite a while.

“What would you even sing? Don’t say the ‘Born This Way’ thing, the New Direction kids did it last year,” - to this, Kurt sighed theatrically; he wished he could have joined his old Glee club for at least that song.

“I’ve got an idea,” Jeff said, and brought out his iPod and a pair of heaphones. “Do you think Love Game would work as a song for a choir like ours?”

Flint listened, bobbing his head every now and then, and bit his lip. “I’m quite sure we would be able to work it, yes.” He found a napkin and started scrawling on it with a ballpoint pen from his wallet. Kurt could see notes about different boys in the choir next to different instruments

Kurt worried his lip between his teeth before coming to a decision. “I want to suggest making a mashup,” he volunteered, and picked up the iPod, scrolling through the albums. “It would be a more difficult task, technically, but I do think the lyrics together would create something interesting.”

Flint, who looked even more intrigued at the sound of a difficult, technical task said, “As long as it’s not like, a number from a musical with a piano-sound, like that Don’t Cry For Me Argentina you sang for us last year, we’re not able to replicate that.” Kurt narrowed his eyes at that, but ultimately let it go - Blaine Anderson and his manipulative “ _we wear blazers for a_ reason  _Kurt_ ” could go to hell.

“No, it’s not. It’s Gaga, listen to this,” he said, and pressed play.

“Fashion of His Love?” Jeff said, sounding confused. “Just… Something Sebastian said, I don’t know why, but, it reminded me of the song.” Kurt shrugged. Jeff watched him curiously, from below his fringe.

Flint clapped his hands.

“I think it could work. Now - if you two divide up the lyrics first, we can work on the backing arrangements afterwards, we got to also record you singing some backing too, in case some of the warblers don’t want to sing when they find out what the song is. You guys aren’t Blaine.”

Kurt bit his lip. Oh how he knew that.

Jeff pulled out the laptop, and let Kurt copy the lyrics down from the internet. They started to high-light parts that would be good for Jeff, parts that would be good for Kurt, and those that would work with Nick’s voice - because, as he argued, Nick deserved to get his solo, but the boy was too nervous to try out by now, after rejection after rejection. “He’ll need to just be a part, but still know that he’s important.” Jeff said.

“Even if he doesn’t like me in the end, I want to give him that,” he said.

Kurt smiled softly at him, and nodded in agreement. The fact that Nick hadn’t sung Uptown Girl had been a great display of favoritism in his opinion - Blaine was good, but Nick’s voice would have made the song unique.

“We’ll blow them all away,” Flint promised with a grin, rubbing his hands together, looking at the computer screen.

The two boys let Flint work his magic, and as they watched over his shoulder, a whole song started to take shape in a word document.

* * *

“Let your body be loose, but be controlled,” Jeff said, for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. Kurt groaned, for what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon. “We both agree that on the line ‘let’s have some fun, this beat is sick’ we move our shoulders like so -“ Jeff showed it off with practiced ease, and Kurt repeated it - but somehow he ended up making stupid jazz hands  _again._  Another groan escaped him, and he couldn’t help but wish for Coach Sylvester’s tough love practice sessions.

“Maybe I could put my hands on my thighs instead?” he said, and demonstrated his move. Jeff nodded approvingly. “You look like you’re feeling up yourself.” Kurt felt himself blush beet red and snapped to Jeff that they should get on with it.

It was two days after the arrangement of the mashup - Jeff had gone out for coffee with Nick the following day, and come home with the usual story of how Nick accidentally bought Jeff’s favorite cookies, and Jeff bought Nick extra whipped cream and cinnamon in his coffee. (Kurt wondered if he had been as pathetic back when he went on coffee non-dates with Blaine. Probably.)

Then, the next morning had been a Saturday, and Jeff had blackmailed Kurt’s roommate into giving him the key, so he could wake Kurt up at  _five in the morning_  so they could practice their routine.

They needed to be sure they could sing while they sang, it wouldn’t do to have to inhale or exhale at the wrong time - so even though Kurt grumbled angrily at Jeff, he did understand. He had put on his workout clothes, so that his skin could breathe despite the sheen of sweat that would develop.

No matter how much Kurt loved Jeff though, he was a terrible dance teacher. Definitely better than Blaine (“ _Now give me… sultry! I’m a huge douchebag who doesn’t care that I’m hurting you, not that I’ll ever admit that.”)_  but still terrible.

“Another run through!” Jeff decided, and Kurt got into position. This time it worked better, and they attempted singing the song while doing the moves.

They kept working at it, and finally, after hours and hours, they ran it through 7 times without even one missed step. They were both a little dizzy towards the end, so they loaded up on water and cookies Jeff had stolen from the box under Flint’s bed. (“You have wedding magazines, I have porn, and Flint has baked goods. I really don’t know why I hang out with you freaks.”)

Sitting on the bed - which Jeff had rid of all the glitter - facing each other they ran through their vocal runs and tapped out the rhythm to the song on the knees. They had had to change it up, since the two songs had a different beat, but they loved it. “I think Gaga would approve,” Jeff said with a laugh. “Yeah,” Kurt agreed, joining in on the laugh, “these two songs have a totally different message, and we’re meshing them, and it’s - it’s like a little monster.” Jeff raised an eyebrow at him and grinned.

Kurt’s stomach fluttered as he wondered what the Warblers would think of the song. What Sebastian would think. Sebastian had seemed to have some feelings for him - he wasn’t sure if it was the feelings of wanting to “ride your disco stick” but there definitely was  _something._

* * *

 

Kurt’s legs were bobbing up and down as he waited for Sebastian to enter the French class the following Tuesday. He was shaky and slightly sweaty in the blazer, the tie felt too tight around his neck, the slacks felt too loose - he needed the grounding feeling of skinny jeans  _so badly_ right now.

When Sebastian entered the room, Kurt felt himself go warm and cold at the same time - because his performance was  _today_. That meant, that today he was going to be standing in a room full of the most popular boys at Dalton and sing about “ _disco sticks_ ”. He wasn’t even sure they’d agree to do the vocals - but at least they had the tape with Kurt and Jeff humming the basic stuff, so they wouldn’t be stuck in awkward silence. Flint was a genius.

Sebastian, bless his heart said, “what’s up Kurt?” while he pulled out his book.

“I’m planning a revolution in the Warblers.” Kurt blurted. Sebastian just looked intrigued and whispered, still in english. “Anyone’s head getting chopped off?”

“Well, I’m planning to just bust their meeting and insist me and Jeff sing a different song for this meeting, get them to stop being so… uptight for five minutes.” Kurt explained, then paused again. “No beheading, unfortunately.”

Sebastian snickered. “You’d have had my full support either way.”

Kurt tried to hide his guffaws by biting his fist, but the strange sound was still very audible in the quiet classroom.

Mrs Krawper sent him a beady-eyed glare, but didn’t call him out. The rest of the lesson was spent discussing French verbs - excruciatingly boring for Sebastian and also quite tedious for Kurt - but he liked the warm heat of Sebastian’s arm as they practiced, and the way Sebastian’s mouth moved lazily over the words.

Kurt pulled out his phone just as class let out.  **From Jeff: I printed all the different copies. I talked to Nick, he still wants to sing more in the Warblers, but doesn’t believe he’s good enough. I didn’t mention our plan. God, I just want Nick to get to _sing_  today.**

* * *

 

Warbler’s practice was starting, and as always they practiced their two-step dance, practiced their vocals until they were all tired of hearing the shout of “MORE KAZOOS!” and the simper of “Blaine what do you think?” from Thad.

It wasn’t until the last twenty minutes, that Kurt spoke up. “Esteemed council, may I speak?”

Wes raised an eyebrow, and Kurt felt transported back to the day of his audition to the Warblers, when he had suggested a song and was shot down. Wes nodded stoically, and Kurt smiled angelically as he stood.

“Our next competition is only a few weeks away, and while I fully agree with the Warbler’s policy of practicing the song until we could do it in our sleep, I also think we need to let ourselves free, just once in a while. We need to keep ourselves loose. We don’t want to seem mechanical to the judges. Therefore, Jeff and I have prepared a little song.” Jeff stood, and pulled his papers from his bag - handing them out to everybody. Kurt grabbed their tape recording from his own bag and he handed it to Flint.

Wes raised a hand, clearly about to give his input to the idea.

“Notice that we’re not auditioning this so that we can perform it at any competition, but simply so we can show the Warblers something different, so we, as a group, can become more experimental.” Jeff piped up, and Kurt nodded in agreement, before finishing the explanation himself. “We’ve chosen to do a ‘mash-up’ of two famous Lady Gaga songs, as you can see. This was something we often did back at my old Glee club - and fact is, that they made it to Nationals last year, and we didn’t. We need to open ourselves up.”

The club watched as Jeff smiled at Nick - the besotted smile he always gave him, and handed him his papers, and muttered something, very quietly, that made Nick look at him with stars in his eyes.

The council was muttering amongst themselves.

“Warbler Kurt and Warbler Jeff has a point, we don’t want to be robotic at competition, and he  _is_  from a winning show choir.” David pointed out quietly, heading off an outburst from Thad with a glare. Kurt glanced towards Sebastian, who was watching the whole debacle with amusement in his eyes.

“Shall we start?” Kurt said challengingly to Jeff, who grinned widely and said, “We shall.”

Flint pressed start, the steady thrumming of Kurt and Jeff’s recorded voices soared through the quiet room, and almost immediately, the rest of the warblers fell into step with the rhythm.

It was a strange thing, to stand here, just like he had when singing Blackbird and they had fallen into step with his melody. The quiet oohing made him feel strange, floaty.

 _“_ _I never was the kind of guy,”_ he began, letting Jeff’s voice join his as they sang, _“who is naturally sure, when it comes to love, oh no…”_  Jeff’s voice tapered off as he joined the background again.  
Kut let his body whip towards Blaine, singing the next line directly to him, his voice desperate, and full of betrayal:  _“I was insecure, insecure!”_

Because he had been. Kurt had settled for Blaine because he didn’t know he needed something else, and Blaine had been so good at playing the game. Had been so good at changing Kurt, making him feel as though he was wrong.

In the end, Kurt didn’t find himself wanting to keep looking Blaine in the eyes, and he shot him a cold look, and turned away from him, letting Jeff sing the next line as he sashayed away, running his hands through his hair as he walked, messing it up.

Jeff was smiling at Nick, who was smiling back widely and stood up, looking down at his paper, waiting for the time when he was supposed to sing.  _“But when it comes to you and me, I can't deny this feeling inside,”_

And Kurt felt a thrill go through him, as he turned towards the warblers again, his hips rocking from side to side, as he let his voice free, let it soar through the room:  _“oh I---“_

The note went on and on, pure and clean, even as the beat changed, and became wilder and more uncontrollable, even as his body thumped with something more than adrenaline and his eyes connected with a pair of brown ones. And then his voice dipped down, and Jeff and Nick joined him, and he let himself be wild, and free as the next line was sung together, as a trio.

 _“I wanna have some fun, this beat is sick”_ \- and it was, it was wild, and it was free and animalistic. Kurt let the feeling of  _sexy_  overtake him; let the sweat-slicked thoughts he only thought in the dark overtake him now as he raised his arms above his head, wrists crossed, as though they were tied together, and licked his lips as Jeff sang to Nick that he wanted to ride his disco stick, and as Nick replied, “Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick,” Kurt managed to do the move Jeff had drilled into his head.

Kurt let his hips move and his hands slid up his thighs and down again.

Here Jeff was supposed to be singing the line _,_ _“I wanna take a ride on your disco stick”_  on his own - but Nick joined him, and it sounded amazing.

A loud  _ooooooh_  rose from the Warblers - and it worked with the song. Kurt went with it.

 _“I’m seeing all the signs from above,”_  he sang, pressing a hand to his chest briefly, as though ‘above’ was inside him.  _“I’m gonna be the one that he loves, I was made for lovin’ him, the fashion of his love.”_  He pulled at his tie, the knot loosening in a tantalizing manner, until finally, the knot opened itself up and he threw it towards another warbler, who was dancing happily along.

Next, Jeff and Nick almost rapped at each other,

_“It’s complicated and stupid,_

_Got hit by cupid, wanted you_

_Now, now, now, I’m”_

During this and a select few of the warblers sang in the background, almost a whisper in the sound of the beat created by the rest, -  _“never felt like this before, this before.”_

His skin felt like it was burning - nothing existed besides the music, which felt like it was drumming through his entire body, his blood rushing, and Sebastian, whose chest was heaving slightly, and whose hands were clenched in his slacks. And yeah, Kurt realized. Sebastian was actually turned on. It seemed somehow appropriate for him to be singing next. “ _I’m seeing the signs of”_ he smiled flirtatiously and flicked his eyes down teasingly to the bulge in Sebastian’s slacks.

 _“The fashion of his love_.” Nick sang, beautifully, as Kurt turned away from Sebastian and danced his way through the room, sending playful smirks at the boys, his hips rolling steady as ever, his fingers stroking the pale column of his neck, a demure, innocent smile playing on his lips, before starting to unbutton the first button of his shirt.

 _“And when it comes to clothing, I'm bad._  
I'm fashionably just designed to be rad,  
Oh and he's no accessory to me.”   
No, no, no.

_I'm physically crafted to be  
As fitting as McQueen.”_

The beat died out as Kurt sang out the last word of his verse, only the tapping of a few feet remained, like a small, almost unrecognizable drum. _  
“So take a ride”_ Jeff challenged Nick bravely.

 _“_ Oh yes _,”_ Nick replied, and Kurt smirked, as he strode over to Nick and Jeff, who were standing nose to nose, as the backing vocals started again. He grabbed Jeff’s papers, and handed them to Nick, pointing to Jeff’s next lines, which where highlighted, as he sang,  _“I'm on a mission, and it involves-“_ Nick grinned filthily at Jeff, his confidence seemed through the roof, as he continued singing Jeff’s original line with Kurt _\- “some heavy touchin' yeah._ ”

A oohing sound happened again - it seemed spontaneous, but was actually planned.   
_“I'm educated in sex,”_ Nick sang, and a strangled ‘oh’ came from Jeff - and that was definitely not scripted, but no matter, Kurt took his line, walking behind the lines of one of the warblers, scraping his nails down the back of his neck, making him shiver.  
_“And now I want it bad, want it bad.”_

The slower, more gentle beat from the beginning of the song came back, but instead of Jeff and Nick singing the lines this time, it was Kurt who sang, his eyes fixed upon Sebastian once again, a candid honesty in both their eyes, as he sang to him from across the room.

 _“Because, when it comes to you and me, I can't deny this feeling inside,_ ” Sebastian looked so beautiful in the soft light, his eyes so dark and so beautiful, and Kurt needed to be close, but the song wasn’t over yet, he needed the song to be over first.

Now Nick’s voice was the one to soar, rather than Kurt’s, and though it didn’t go as high as Kurt’s had, it still sounded right. _”Oh I--“_

Kurt’s body went on autopilot, as he danced his way through the rest, as he sang along to the lines of wanting to ride someone’s disco stick, which were then repeated, but with a reverse meaning, that Gaga hadn’t had in her version of Love Game.

 _“So let’s have some fun,_  
This beat is sick  
C’mon, take a ride on my disco stick”

And now it was Jeff who sang the lines about seeing signs from above, about being the one to be loved, and about being made for loving someone, and Kurt danced, wild and free, because no matter what the outcome, this had happened.

And then, the musical number tapered out, and this time, no more words were sung. For a few seconds there was quiet - then the entire room exploded in conversation, compliments and criticism alike. Wes looked slightly constipated as he told David that this was simply against the rules of Warbler conduct, to sing songs that would never be used in competition. David was arguing back that nowhere did it state this, pulling out a tattered handbook, and pointing towards a paragraph he meant supported his claim. Blaine Anderson was quiet, and didn’t remind Wes that  _he_  often had done very, very impromptu performances in the Warblers that never were shown to the rest of the school, nevermind at competitions, and that the tattered state of the cough they were sitting on attested to it. Trent was grinning and high-fiving with a boy named Tristan, and Flint was pocketing a video camera he apparently had put on the council’s desk, presumably to record the performance. He winked at Kurt.

All this happened in the space of seconds - but the room quieted down when Nick spoke softly to Jeff, his eyes very bright and his hand gripping the blonde’s shoulder. “Jeff?” Jeff nodded nervously, and looked into Nick’s eyes.

“Can we talk alone? In - In your dorm, perhaps?” Nick said. He sounded breathless and happy, and his eyes trained solely on Jeff. Jeff was grinning, and winked at Nick. “Of course we can babe. Practice is over in two minutes anyway.” He put a hand on the back of Nick’s spine, and led him out of the room. The last thing that could be heard, before the doors closed behind them was Nick asking, “Did you really mean what you said before we began?”

In the back of the room, a few boys grumpily handed over crackly dollar notes to David who had a satisfied smirk on his face. “I win everything, bitches.”

The next thing that happened, felt like a whirlwind to Kurt. He was spun around, and found himself chest to chest with Sebastian Smythe, his breath catching and his heart skipping a beat as he saw Sebastian staring at him, a solemn look in his eyes.

“Kurt,” he said, and in Sebastian’s mouth, Kurt’s name sounded like a prayer.   
For the first time in his life, Kurt initiated the first kiss, and it was  _heat._  Sebastian’s skin was so hot and slightly rough under his fingers, the 5 o’clock shadow creeping up on him, and Kurt wanted  _more_.

He heard a low mutter from someone - likely David - “I win again guys, pay up,” but couldn’t bring himself to care about it, because  _Sebastian was pulling him closer still_ , and he felt like he was burning, he was a furnace when Sebastian licked into his mouth, and Kurt found that his hands were exploring the quite interesting biceps on Sebastian’s arms, and then that another of his hands were pushing up the fabric of Sebastian’s blazer and shirt, to that he could feel the heated skin of Sebastian’s waist.

Whatever happened next, would happen. Kurt was flying free. Had he had the brain capacity to think at the moment, he’d have imagined a tiny grave bursting open and his Warbler soaring free, alive again, wings unclipped, voice untamed. 

Sebastian's tongue flicked against his playfully, and Kurt surrendered to the heat completely.

* * *

 

 

 

> _"In the religion of the insecure_  
>  _I must be myself, respect my youth"- Born This Way_


End file.
